Chapter 194

Arthur

“Arthur, darling, what do you think of this one?”

I glance up from my lounge chair on the hotel balcony to see Veronica modeling yet another new dress—this one a shimmering red number that hugs her curves in all the right places. She gives a little twirl, the fabric catching the light of the setting sun.

“Beautiful, darling,” I say automatically. “Absolutely stunning.”

“You think so?” She smooths her hands over the fabric. “It’s not too much for dinner tonight?”

“Nothing is too much for you,” I hear myself saying. The words feel distant, like I’m not really saying them.

Veronica beams, pleased with my response. “Perfect. I’ll take it, then, along with the blue one and the black one.” She leans over and plants a kiss on my forehead. “You’re so generous, my love.”

I watch as she disappears back into our suite, where three anxious-looking boutique assistants are waiting with more dresses, more shoes, and more jewelry. We’ve been in the tropics for three days now, and Veronica hasn’t stopped shopping since we arrived. My credit card has seen more action in the past 72 hours than it has in the past year.

And I can’t bring myself to care. Every time Veronica asks for something—a new dress, another piece of jewelry, a spa treatment at the most expensive resort on the island—I just nod and say yes. I want to make her happy. I want to give her everything she desires.

I want… I want…

What do I want?

The question floats through my mind like the final leaf of autumn falling from a thin branch, there one moment and gone the next, swept away by Veronica’s voice calling out that she needs my opinion on yet another dress.

I rise from the chair and step back into the suite, dutifully admiring the white gown she’s now wearing. It looks like a wedding dress, I realize with a start. But that makes sense, doesn’t it? We’re getting married soon. Of course she’d be trying on wedding dresses.

“Do you like it?” she asks, spinning slowly for me.

“Very much,” I say. “You look like an angel.”

She smiles, clearly pleased, but there’s something calculating in her eyes that I can’t quite place. “Perfect. I’ll take this one too.”

The boutique assistant’s eyes widen slightly as she adds it to the growing pile of purchases. “Excellent choice, madam. Shall I have the bill written under your name, or—”

“Put it all on my fiancee’s account, of course.”

I nod in agreement, even as a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers that something is wrong. That voice has been getting louder lately, especially when I’m tired or when Veronica is occupied with something else. It’s asking questions I don’t want to answer. Questions like: Why are we really here? Why am I spending so much money? Why can’t I say no to her?

And most troubling of all: Why can’t I remember Iris’s face clearly anymore?

But then Veronica is at my side again, her scent washing over me, and the questions fade away.

“You’re the best, Arthur,” she coos, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Now, I was thinking we could have dinner at that little place by the harbor. The one with the lobster.”

“Whatever you want, dear.”

“Excellent.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me lightly on the lips. “I’m going to have a bath before we go.” She hesitates halfway to the bathroom. “Oh, and Arthur, don’t wear that drab suit again. You’ve worn it three times now, and what will people think of us? I purchased a new one for you.”

Well… I purchased it. But I don’t bother to say that.

After dinner, I’m exhausted, more tired than I should be after a meal. But I’ve been feeling this way for days now—weeks, even. Like I’m constantly wading through a thick fog.

“I’m going to bed,” I mutter, barely bothering to change out of my brand new suit before collapsing onto the king-sized mattress. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my love,” Veronica says, leaning down to kiss my cheek. Her scent envelops me, and I drift off to sleep almost instantly.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but the room is dark when I jerk awake with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed. My heart is hammering against my ribs, and my skin is slick with a cold sweat.

The last thing I remember is seeing Iris’s face in my dreams. Her eyes, glowing golden…

Where am I?

“Iris?” I call out, looking around the unfamiliar room.

But it’s not Iris who is lying beside me. It’s Veronica, her blonde hair spread out on the pillow, her delicate lace nightgown stark black against the creamy silk sheets. I scramble out of bed, putting as much distance as possible between us.

What the hell am I doing here? How did I get here? The last clear memory I have is… the Solstice Ceremony. Veronica was poisoned. There was a kiss. And then… nothing but fragments.

The fog in my mind is lifting, and with each passing second, the reality of my situation becomes clearer. I’m in a foreign country with a woman I barely know, spending money like it’s nothing, neglecting my presidential duties, and I’ve abandoned my mate and son.

How? Why?

Only one explanation makes sense.

“You,” I growl, turning to Veronica. “You drugged me. You’ve been drugging me this whole time.”

She stirs at the sound of my voice, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looks confused—and then her expression shifts.

“Arthur?” she murmurs, sitting up and flicking on the lamp. “What’s wrong?”

“What have you been giving me?” I demand, backing away as she rises from the bed. Every movement is smooth, languid. Like a panther, or perhaps a snake. “Something in my food? My drinks? What?”

Veronica doesn’t look concerned. If anything, she seems mildly annoyed, like I’m a child having a tantrum. “You’re being ridiculous again, Arthur. Go back to sleep.”

“Not until you tell me what you’ve done to me,” I insist. It hits me then that we’ve done this several times now—coming back to my senses, confronting her, only to lose my clarity again. “How did you get me here? Why can’t I remember anything clearly? What happened to Iris?”

At the mention of Iris’s name, Veronica’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Oh, I see. You’re thinking of her again.”

“She’s my mate,” I say firmly. “My true mate. Not you.”

“Is that so?” Veronica moves toward her dressing table with casual grace. “Well, that’s not what you’ve been saying for the past few weeks. Not what you’ll be saying at our wedding, either.”

“There’s not going to be a wedding,” I snap. “Whatever game you’re playing, it’s over. I’m going home to my family.” With that, I turn and make my way toward the door, not caring that I’m shirtless and barefoot.

Suddenly, she steps in my way. There’s a small crystal bottle in her hand. It looks like a perfume bottle. “Oh, Arthur. You’re not going anywhere.”

Before I can react, she presses the spritzer, and a cloud of scent hits me directly in the eyes and nose.

I choke, doubling over as the cloying sweetness fills my lungs. I try to hold my breath, but it’s too late—the perfume is already working its way into my system, making my thoughts fuzzy, my limbs heavy.

“No,” I gasp, fighting against it with everything I have. “Iris. Miles. I need to get back to them.”

“Arthur,” Veronica coos, dropping to a crouch beside me. “Don’t fight it, my love. You know this is where you belong. With me.”

I try to push her away, but my arms won’t respond properly. My wolf, who moments ago was howling for Iris, has gone quiet, subdued by whatever is in that perfume.

“What is that stuff?” I manage to choke out.

“Just a little something I’ve been working on,” Veronica says, spraying me again. “Nothing harmful, I assure you—just enough to make you… suggestible.”

The fog is creeping back in, smothering my thoughts, my will, my love for Iris. I fight against it, clinging to the memory of her face, of Miles’ laugh, of our life together.

“You can’t… keep doing this,” I gasp. “Someone will notice.”

“No one has noticed so far,” Veronica points out with a gleeful little giggle.

I slump to the floor, my back against the wall, as the perfume does its work just as it has so many times before. Veronica kneels beside me, pulling my head against her chest, stroking my hair.

“Shh…” she whispers, smoothing that stray curl away from my forehead. “Our wedding will come soon enough, and then you’ll forget about her completely.”